


Mine

by glymr



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: 5 Acts Meme, M/M, Roleplay, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-23
Updated: 2010-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-14 20:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1278067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glymr/pseuds/glymr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time he sees it, Tim is shocked beyond words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a gift for Jokers-Daughter.

The first time he sees it, Tim is shocked beyond words. 

It's one of the creeds they live by: no distinguishing marks of any kind. Sometimes it seems a little pointless, when all of them are covered with scars, but Tim knows that's not the point. The point is not to give anyone any clues that you don't _have_ to. No tattoos, for example. Tim even knows that Bruce has had a few small moles removed. The media had called it vanity. The truth is, it's practicality.

So the first time he sees Jason's nipple ring, Tim knows it's just another way of setting himself apart from his family, from *Bruce*. Just another thing, like the guns and the red hood he wears.

It doesn't make it any less of a turn-on, though.

Jason's got him pinned against the door of this grubby, airless little squat, and he's got Jason's shirt pushed up to his armpits. The silver ring gleams in the dim light that makes its way in through the cracks in the walls.

" _Jason_ ," whispers Tim, reaching out a finger and tracing over the ring, tugging on it a little.

Jason growls. "*Robin*," he says harshly, and Tim shivers. It's a warning, he knows. He'd used the wrong name.

" _Batman_ ," he whispers, and gets another growl, but there's a tone of approval in this one.

Jason's got Tim's cape off, and strokes the scar on his neck once, twice before snapping the leather collar around it and attaching the leash. "Robin," he says, his voice low and dark. He tugs at the leash, bringing Tim to his knees. " _My_ Robin." 

He's still got his shirt on, still wearing his leather jacket. He's still wearing his *guns*. Tim opens his mouth, the tastes and smells mingling on his tongue - sweat and musk, stale cigarette smoke and leather. Jason tugs at the leash again, bringing Tim's head forward a little more, then unzips his pants, pushing them down just enough. He brushes his erection over Tim's waiting mouth, painting his lips with precome before shoving in.

Tim hums around the cock in his mouth before sucking in a breath and swallowing him down, pushing forward and sucking and stroking with his tongue. One of Jason's hands is buried in his hair, tugging and yanking on it. The other is wrapped around the leash, occasionally giving it a little pull, keeping Tim off balance.

Tim shudders and swallows and shudders again as Jason grits his teeth and says, " _Robin_ ," in that deep, hoarse voice. "R-Robin-" and then he's pulling back, spilling over Tim's mouth, his face, his chin. Then Jason pulls at the leash, pulls him up until he's standing on his tiptoes, and leans forward to lick his cheeks, lick his lips. Tim moans, bucking against him.

None of this will matter when they leave, of course. But here and now, he can belong to Jason.

Here and now, only in this time, this way...he can be Jason's Robin.


End file.
